Looking for Mr Right
by marstanuki
Summary: Kenshin & Aoshi dumped their fiancee, Kaoru & Misao. Heart-broken & furious, the girls vowed to get revenge while embarking on a series of disastrous dates LOOKING FOR MR. RIGHT. K+K/A+M
1. Jilted! REVISED

LOOKING FOR MR. RIGHT

Standard Disclaimers Apply

WARNING: MAJOR OOCness

CHAPTER I (REVISED)

            Kaoru stared with disbelieving eyes at Kenshin, her lovely features drawn with pain. 

            "It isn't true," she whispered. "You don't mean it, do you?"

            Kenshin shifted from one foot to the other, a deep frown on his face.

            "It's just one of those things, Kaoru. Far better that it's happened now than after** we were married."**

            She swallowed, but the lump in her throat remained.  Why make any effort at all to speak? It was useless, anyway. Oh, but it hurts! It hurts to experience the pain in her heart, the sense of loss and failure; the sense of humiliation.

            And the girl who had taken Kenshin from her was none other than Tomoe—beautiful, perfect Tomoe.

            "I must go." She looked at him just once before turning on her heel to leave the hotel lounge in which she and Kenshin had so often met.

            "Kaoru, wait!" Kenshin called desperately as she was about to get in her car.

            She looked at him hopefully**; **maybe he changed his mind and wanted to marry her, after all. 

            Kenshin began to fidget. "Well…um…can I have the engagement ring back?"

            Kaoru's blood heated to the boiling point. Of all the things he'd said, this was the limit. The final insult. "Here's your stinking ring!" she shouted,** throwing the ring at him. "I want you to know that I don't need you in my life. There are other men out there who would be proud to have me." Head high, with a dignity Princess Masako would have envied, she got into her car.**

            The surface looked dull. She could barely see her reflection in the chrome and mirrors, and what she could see looked distorted. Just as she felt on the inside—deformed and misshapen.

            She couldn't accept this. It was a horrible and undeserved sentence on a sweet, loving girl like her. At the age of 25, she was on the brink of becoming one of the most sought after fashion photographers in Japan. When she met Kenshin, she gave up so many opportunities just to be with him upon realizing that there was something missing from her life; a husband, a family. And now, it seemed that her dreams were merely fantasy.

            _Why didn't anyone ever warn me that love is synonymous with misery?_

Tears pooled in her eyes. She couldn't imagine life without him. Kaoru drove towards Misao's apartment, weeping all the way.

            "He what?!"

            "It's all finished, Kaoru." Although Misao had meant to hold on to her control she found herself weeping on Kaoru's shoulder.

            "Oh, honey! Not you too!"

            "Aoshi's fallen in love with that flirt, Megumi."

            "The jerk!" declared Kaoru, her blue eyes blazing. "Oh,I wish he was here! I'd slap his face, believe me!"

            "I'll get over it, Kaoru."

            "Misao, dear. Tell me what happened. Why did he dump you?"

            "Well, it was like this………"

-------@ FLASHBACK @-------

            "No, it's not true! Please, tell me you're lying!" A distraught Misao begged a stoic Aoshi. 

            He looked at her coldly. "I'm sorry, Misao. But my decision's final."

            "Look at me, Aoshi. Really look." She stood up straight, squaring her shoulders. Her gaze pinned his. She could trust him to tell her the truth; she didn't doubt that for a second. "Answer me this and don't spare my feelings. What does Megumi have that I don't?"

            "Well—"

            "Am I repugnant? Ugly?"

            "Of course not."

            "Do I look naïve or stupid?"

            "No." But this he said with less conviction. 

            "Then, what is it about me that you found lacking?"

            Aoshi studied her as if to gauge how honest he could be. "Megumi's gorgeous."

            _Ouch. Damn you, Aoshi. Why do you have to be so rude_, Misao thought.

            He paused, waiting for her reaction. Misao refused to give him one, although she had to bite her tongue to keep quiet.

            "She can cook, too," he added.

            _No problem there. I'm not a bad cook myself_, Misao thought again.

            "I don't know a man who isn't attracted to a woman with big, uh, boobs—" He glanced at her quickly, "—and long legs."

            _Okay, I can't compete with that,_ she thought, sighing dejectedly.

-------@ END OF FLASHBACK @-------

            "You mean to say that he dumped you because you're short and have small breasts? That's disgusting!" Unable to contain herself any longer, Kaoru leapt to her feet.

            "I'm afraid so."

            Kaoru stared at her hard, her outrage simmering just below the surface. "I can't believe this. Men are so superficial."

            Misao sighed. "You can say that again." As far as she could see, she was a lost cause. Unlike Megumi, she didn't have a body that turned anyone's head, not unless they were extremely desperate—or  had been in prison for a couple of decades.  

            "Honestly, Misao. What did you see in him, anyway?"

            "His wicked sense of humor," the green-eyed girl replied seriously.

            "His what?!!!"

            "His wicked sense of humor," Misao repeated with a hint of irritation.

            Kaoru looked at her best friend as if she'd lost her marbles.

            _Mou, you ask a perfectly sane question and you get a silly answer,_ she thought.  Come to think of it, Misao was right. A guy needs a lot of sense of humor if he's dating the likes of Megumi.

            "Misao, I hate to say this to you but a silent movie's more expressive than Aoshi."

            "Hey, I resent that," Misao objected, frowning. Sure, he was quiet. Okay, too quiet. But he's a stud muffin, with his towering height, lean, whipcord build, and those icy blue eyes that sent shivers down her spine. "Alright, how about you? What was your first impression of Himura?"

            "Well—I thought he was a lesbian trapped in a man's body," referring to Kenshin's pretty boy features. 

            Misao howled, laughing, rocking back on the sofa and slapping her thigh.

            "Tomoe is an unlucky woman. Why a class act like her would hang around the sleaze of the century is beyond me," Kaoru continued.

            Misao shrugged. "Men. Who can figure them out? I still resent the fact that Aoshi chose Megumi over me. Just because shepretends she can heal people."

            "You mean she's a quack?"

            "No, she's not a duck, more like a fox."

            Kaoru rolled her eyes. "No, silly. What I meant was, she's a doctor wanna-be?"

            Misao gave an unladylike snort.  "If you ask me, I think she's more of a faith healer. She's all faith and no healing. That man-stealing-bimbo!" Misao was fuming. "After I saved her sorry butt from that drug dealer, Kanryuu Takeda and asked my Aoshi, who happens to be one of the best lawyers in Japan to defend her in court, this is how she repays me!"

            The blue-eyed girl put her arm around her best friend's shoulders.  "Misao, dear. I think that this break-up will do you good. Aoshi's not worth it.  Frankly, I don't think he can perform at all. By the time you'd be ready for him to get it up; he'd betoo old to."  

            A grim face Misao nodded. "You're absolutely right, Kaoru. I need to get this guy out of my system. He isn't worth a single tear. I'm only 24 and there are plenty of gorgeous and available men out there. Besides, he and Megumi deserved each other. A nutcase and a quack. Truly, a match made in heaven."  

She suddenly stood up and placed her hand over her chest. "I, Misao Makimachi, dynamite chick, do hereby solemnly swear that I will rest easy only when and if Aoshi, Buddha reincarnation, suffers to an excruciating degree." She gave Kaoru her best evil grin. "Just like I did."

            "That's the spirit! On behalf of women everywhere." Kaoru stood and applauded.

~TBC~

AUTHOR'S NOTES:

I'm so getting tired of the fics wherein Kaoru or Misao were crying their eyes out because the guys left them. And then in the end, the girls forgive the men even after the guys dumped them. I wanted to show that Kaoru and Misao have the guts to show their men that they can live without them. But don't despair coz' this one will definitely be a K+K/A+M fic. I'll just torture the girls a little…er…a lot. ::lol:: Watch out for their weird dates coz' I'll be fun. * evil laugh*

NightRain – Thanks for proof-reading my fic. 


	2. You duh man!

LOOKING FOR MR. RIGHT

STANDARD DISCLAIMERS APPLY

WARNING: Major OOCness

-------@ I revised **Chapter 1** coz' there's some info. missing. Please do read it again. I intend to make fun of all the RK characters, so be warned!!!

***CHAPTER 2***

            "Kaoru we need to get laid." Misao's voice possessed a lovely octave that could carry plainly through a hurricane.

            And it was followed by a sudden hush in the crowded room.

            Glancing at the nearby tables, Kaoru noted that the men had stopped talking and turned to stare at them with a lot more interest than she cared for.

            _Ah jeez! Will Misao ever learn to keep her voice down?_

            Kaoru covered her face with her hands and did her best to ignore the curious onlookers. An urge to slink beneath the table, followed by an even greater urge to kick her companion, consumed her.

            "Why don't you speak a little louder, Misao?" she whispered. "I don't think all the guys in Japan were able to hear you."

            Misao just laughed out loud.

            A sudden stillness came over the room; most of the patrons were staring at the door. Kaoru followed their gazes and saw Kenshin with Tomoe by his side.  She was a striking woman with long black hair and dark solemn eyes. She wore her elegance naturally. Something about the way she held herself combined with the careless manner in which she wore her clothes screamed old money. 

Her heart did an instinctive skip-hop before it settled into the pit of her stomach. She knew she'd see him with Tomoe sooner or later. She just hadn't expected to see him so quickly. 

He looked around the room until he spotted Kaoru sitting at a corner table with Misao. He stared at her and swallowed hard, then hurriedly ushered Tomoe to a table near the entrance of the restaurant.

            __

            Kaoru's heart ached as she watched him gaze at Tomoe lovingly and offer her the same single-minded attention he had given her in the days when they were in love. That was the man she was supposed to share her life with, the man she had believed would always love her. The injustice nearly choked her.

            "Kaoru, you are shooting off enough hostility to scatter a pack of wolves." Misao looked at her in concern.

            Kaoru didn't answer and instead stabbed her fork into the huge sausage she had ordered, and without breaking eye contact she bared her teeth and gave the sausage a vicious bite.  Kenshin jumped and instinctively covered his lap, barely stifling a yelp.

            Message sent.  Message received.

            "I can't believe you just did that!" Misao could scarcely speak for laughing. Tears rolled down her cheeks, and she gasped for breath. "Poor Himura."

            "Did you see his face?" Kaoru collapsed into another spasm of laughter. "He felt a strong connection with that sausage. I'll tell you."

            Misao fanned herself with her hand. "Whew, I haven't laughed like that since Aoshi won first place in a debate contest."

            "What did they use? Sign language?"

            They both dissolved into another fit of hysterical laughter.

            "I got to go Misao. I need to get ready for my big date tonight."

            _Wow!_ Misao was impressed. _Kaoru surely didn't waste any time looking for a replacement for Kenshin._

            "So, who's the lucky guy?"

            Kaoru smiled. "His name's Sanosuke Sagara. Tae knows him. She was the one who gave him my number. He called last night and I accepted his dinner invitation."

            "That's wonderful," Misao said dreamily.

            "He's taking me to this expensive Italian restaurant."

            "He must be loaded. Well, I want full details, you hear me. Call me tomorrow."

            "Will do."

            Kaoru was having second thoughts when she saw Sanosuke Sagara. She was not impressed when her date showed up in 100 percent polyester, including outdated bell-bottoms that were checkered and much too short, revealing white socks and slip-on, non-leather shoes.

            He gave new meaning to the words _dressed to kill_…he was going to kill her with embarrassment.

            His hair was a Hollywood stylist's nightmare. Heck, even Bollywood will have a hard time accepting it. She pitied the poor creatures that would accidentally drop on his head. (A.N. **Bollywood is India's own version of Hollywood**)

            "What is that smell?" she asked, wrinkling her nose.

            "That's my **eau de toilette**. When I splash it on, the girls know there's a man around," Sano said proudly, puffing his chest.

            _Oh yeah, they'll know all right. It smells like a stinking public toilet._

            "Looking ba—ba—boom, babe." Sano jiggled his eyebrows a couple of times.

            She gritted her teeth.  "The name's Kaoru."

            "Well, hello to you, cupcake. My name's Sanosuke, but you can call me Sano. You naked underneath that?" he whispered. His eyes ogling her cleavage showed to an advantage by a halter dress with a deep V neckline.  The deep blue dress, slinky, silky and body hugging did incredible things for her figure. Everything was right where it was supposed to be.

 Sano's first thought when he saw her—other than how good she looked—was to wonder if a dress like that required a bra. Not that it was any of his business, but he couldn't help being curious.

           Her sapphire eyes flashed thirteen different kinds of surprise. "Excuse me?" Kaoru had trouble believing that her friend Tae, someone who knew her and presumably liked her, could possibly believe she'd be compatible with this clown.

            "Never mind. You're one uptight chick. You obviously do not have a sense of humor. It's a pity 'coz you're definitely a looker," he said shaking his head.

            Kaoru ground her teeth in an effort to maintain her composure. "I happen to have a very well developed sense of humor. Why else would I go out with you?"

            He laughed. "Great comeback. I think I'm starting to like you. Let's go."

            His car didn't look much better. She wasn't sure if it was safe to ride in it. It was a huge, old boat-style car, rusted out and sporting a crack in the windshield. Beneath her feet was a factory recall notice from 1955. 

            As they journeyed on, she was glad she had her tetanus shots and prayed that he would make it safely to the restaurant.

            The Italian restaurant he had chosen was first-class. Kaoru smiled with pleasure.

            "This is very nice."

            He grinned. "I only go with the best."

            She couldn't say the same thing about his fashion sense, not to mention his car.

            "I went to this small restaurant in Osaka once. It was horrible!" 

            Kaoru leaned forward.  "Why is that?"

            "The service was a bit slow. They should have printed a calendar with the menu. The waiter was so slow he had to shave three times before he got to our table…and the plate was so small, you could only put one sushi on it at a time."

            "Poor you," she said trying to sound sympathetic.  Kaoru hadn't experienced migraine before, but she was beginning to develop one right now.

            Sano suddenly frowned. "You know, every time I have a cup of coffee, I get a stabbing pain in my right eye. What should I do?"

            "Try taking the spoon out of the cup."

            He seemed to be thinking that over.  "That sounds like good advice." He gave her a disarming smile. "Thanks a lot."

            "No problem." She remembered her father saying that sometimes the gods compensated human beings who were born handicapped in one area by richly endowing them in another. Someone who was born with exceptional good looks, for example, might be dull-witted. A pang of compassion struck her.

            Sano gave her a knowing grin. "Say baby, how's about a threesome later?"

            "I beg your pardon?" She didn't bother to disguise her irritation.

            "You know, you and me and Jack Daniels."

            If this was how the evening was going to continue, she'd need wine. Heck, she'd need the whole bottle. Maybe, a swig now and again was bound to improve her mood.

            "So, what do you do?" she asked, ignoring his suggestion and hoping to salvage this so-called date.

            "I'm a free agent."

            She toyed with her napkin. "What's a free agent, exactly?" she sounded impatient.

            "I do this and that."

            "Simply put, you don't have a permanent job," she muttered dread sweeping through her.

            "Well, yeah. You can say that."

            _Uh-oh. This doesn't look good._

            The waiter suddenly arrived with their food. Sano chose that moment to pick his nose. It reminded Kaoru of a deep-sea exploration to find the Titanic ship. It was utterly revolting.

            "Busy line?" she asked hoping he got the drift, but he was too engrossed with his nose.

            While her date was busy dialing one of his sensory organs, Kaoru made an assessment of her own. It only took her a moment to conclude that he was a man with more good looks than character. Her cursory inspection also told her everything she needed to know about him. She saw indolence in his slouching posture, arrogance in the angle of his head and a flicker of something unmistakably carnal in those half-lidded brown eyes. 

            And his hair. Good heavens! It defied the laws of gravity.

            "Do you know I managed to captured a crook with just one finger?"

            She set down her fork to study him more closely. "You're kidding, aren't you?"

            "Nope."

            "One finger? How did you do that?"

            "I used it to dial the police station."

            She rolled her eyes. "Wow! That's very brave of you," she said sarcastically. 

Wanting to find if they have something in common, she asked him about his hobbies. 

"I like to go to the casinos and throw some dice." He grinned suddenly and the movement of his mouth softened his features.

Okay, so maybe he did have a little gambling problem. But then, everyone needs a hobby.

            He rubbed his chin. "Say, what do you get if you cross an ox and a moron?"

            Kaoru was itching to say "You!" but instead she said. "Enlighten me."

            Sano was beginning to enjoy himself. "If you cross an ox and a moron, you get oxymoron." He laughed as if what he'd said was uproariously funny. "Oxymoron. Get it?"

            Ha. Ha. Ha. "No," she said flatly. Kaoru's head was starting to pound in earnest now, and she knew she couldn't go through with this. She couldn't stand another minute in this man's company. Not only were his jokes corny but he's also a slob.

            When the waiter brought their bill, Sano handed it to Kaoru.

            "The lady's paying our dinner," he said to the waiter.

            "I beg your pardon?"

            "Why should I pay for our dinner?" he asked. "You're the one with a job."

            "Yes, but…you asked me out."

            "True. But I'm doing you a big favor. Tae told me your fiancé dumped you, so I'm here to cheer you up. By the way, don't forget to give the waiter a large tip."

            Disgusted, Kaoru picked up her purse. It wouldn't do any good to argue.

            "Oh, you intellectually-impaired freeloader," she muttered under her breath. "Somebody needs to castrate you."

            Unfortunately, she hadn't brought enough money with her, since she quit carrying her credit cards and didn't have her ATM card with her, assuming that her date will pay for everything.  They ended up washing the dishes and ruining her Dolce & Gabbana dress given to her by Harumi Inoue, one of Japan's top fashion models.

            They arrived at her house a quarter before one. She was so tired from washing those dirty dishes the height of Mount Fuji. Kaoru suddenly noticed a huge box blocking her doorway. She marched toward the box and opened it. Inside were all the things she had given to Kenshin. 

            _So, he doesn't want any reminder of me, that's why he's giving back all these personal stuff.  He's trying to erase me from his memory forever._

_            This is it,_ she thought. _This is the darkest moment of my life._

            A sob rose in her chest. She gritted her teeth against the urge to cry. Kaoru's heart felt so bruised it was hard to breathe. 

_What happened to us, Kenshin? Our love was supposed to last forever._

But forever seemed to have passed them by. 

Fingers of rage suddenly uncurled inside her. She hated herself like this—lonely and depressed. She was tired of people messing with her. Her stubborn streak set in. She was tired of her sadness. She had never been a coward. 

            _Why, Kenshin Himura would be the luckiest man in the world to marry a woman like me. Of all the nerve!_

            With a sigh of exasperation, she lugged the box inside. _Damn! It was heavy_.

            "You know, hauling around stuff like that isn't good for a person with back trouble."

            "Do you have back trouble, Sano?"

            "Not now, I don't, which is exactly my point."

            She suppressed an urge to pummel him. He was infuriating and lazy. "Don't worry I'm not asking for your help."

            Instead of being shamed, he seemed please. "Suit yourself. You duh man."

_            You duh man…you duh big dumb jerk!_

            Kaoru mustered a smile for him. "Thank you for bringing me home. Good night, Sano. I wish you well." She couldn't in good faith tell him it had been a pleasure to meet him. It had been an experience she wasn't likely to repeat. An experience she wasn't likely to forget.

            "Yeah, that was fun. We'll have to go out again real soon."

            "Yeah, sure," Kaoru muttered. _As soon as I came into a fortune._

            The corners of his eyes crinkled.   "I have another joke for you."

            A lump of ice went down her throat whole. "Another one?" she choked.

            "Here's a good one. Why did the chicken cross the road?"

            "I dunno."

            "To get the daily news. Do you get it?"

            "No."

            "Neither do I."

            "Jeez! The only chicken I see around here is you. No wait, make that a rooster."

            He assumed a hurt little-boy look. "Hey, lighten up, will you babe."

            Her temper flared.  "Lighten up! How can I lighten up when you're spewing a load of nonsense. You know what I think? I think there ought to be a law against people like you." She could no longer hold back her words. "The closest you'll ever get to a joke is when you look in a mirror."  
  


            One of his eyebrows arched. "Well, excuse me for trying to comfort a future spinster. Damn! You're nutty as a fruitcake. No wonder, your fiancé left you."

            That stung. She looked dangerously wired and ready to detonate. She had to overcome this newly discovered urge to mutilate anything with a high testosterone count.

            Kaoru was so outraged she couldn't find the words to speak. It took her all of two seconds to recover. She met his look, her own anger spilling over. "For your information, I can have any man I want. It just so happened that I picked a loser. Now leave!" In case he needed help finding the door, she pointed it out to him. "Get in that rolling junkyard and never darken my driveway again with your oil spills."

            "All right," Sano growled, pushing past Kaoru. "If that's the way you want it, fine."

            She watched him drive in that old heap of a car and slammed the door.

            He's only been gone ten seconds and already I can feel my blood pressure lowering.

            "That fashion-impaired, freeloading rooster head," she said fuming. "Man! When I see that stupid fool again, I'm gonna take his dumb head off for him."

            "MOU!"

            AUTHOR'S NOTES:

            My undying thanks to **Anna-neko-sama** for proof-reading my fic. * **BIG HUG & KISS ***

            Also, thanks to the following who R&R my story:

**Chibi-angel** – CONGRATS!!! I sent you an e-card. 

Kiki (yunqi10@hotmail.com)  

Mystic Ice

nobody  

april-moon  

ShilviGrl/Amyjenc1

Jason M. Lee

Manina

Mutsumi

teddy grahms

Cali

chitchat           

Uber Rei Model

donna8157

Ame Kurayami

Tamsyn

Briar  

Reviewer

**neurotic-sine** – Enishi? You'll have to wait & see ::evil grin::

Sock Lady

Eikou  

vanilla bean  

            UNITL NEXT TIME FOLKS! IT'S MISAO'S TURN ::EVIL LAUGHTER::


	3. Dance Fever

LOOKING FOR MR. RIGHT

STANDARD DISCLAIMERS APPLY

(Un-edited version)

WARNING: Major OOCness

CHAPTER 3

Aoshi was waiting in his car, outside Megumi's apartment, when she appeared in a breathless state and with an indescribable expression on her face.

"What's the matter?" He asked, looking at her curiously.

"Zansa is the matter."

"Zansa?"

"The Chihuahua that lives next door. I swear that dog is giving me the eye."

Aoshi frowned. Surely Megumi wasn't implying what he thought she was. "The eye?"

"You know. The eye. He may look like a pooch, but that dog has sex on his mind. Every time I walk by, he looks up my skirt. And you don't want to know what he did to my running shoes. The dog is a pervert."

"Poor dog," Aoshi muttered. He rubbed his brow as Megumi's words rang in his head. A Chihuahua? Jeez!

This woman must be mentally-impaired. Probably due to all the opium she inhaled in the past. It must have scattered her brain cells.

Poor Megumi. Surely, there was some way to help this poor woman.

&&&&&&

"This is Misao Makimachi, speaking. How may I help you?" Misao chirped her standard greeting into the phone.

While waiting for an answer, she cradled the handset between her chin and shoulder, freeing both her hands. Long accustomed to doing more than one thing at a time, she scribbled her signature at the bottom of a purchase order, and then flipped through a pile of letters. Failing to get an immediate response from the caller, she repeated her greeting.

"Are you the one?"

"One what?" she asked distractedly. Trying to decide which accessories to use for the chiffon dress that will be worn by the famous actress Hidekazu Akai for the awards night ceremony. She wanted her client to be the star of the event. After all, as a fashion stylist, she took her job seriously.

"My soul mate," the man stated.

Misao snapped to attention. Her feet hit the floor. Not again! She thought. She'd like to get her hands on the jerk who had been pestering her for the last several weeks and wring his neck! Crank callers were sickos. She didn't need him tying up her line. She had considered changing her phone number, but had opted for waiting a while longer, hoping the crank caller would tire of his game. If she changed her number, she'd have to notify her famous clients, and that would be a waste of precious time.

She glanced at the wall clock. Usually the fool contented himself with heavy breathing, and phoned nearer closing time, not lunchtime.

Misao kept her tone casual. "Mister, let's clear the line and still be friends."

"No thanks. I'd prefer seeing for myself if you're my soul mate."

Rolling anger ended all pretenses at playing it cool. "Fine," she snapped. "Suppose you send me a picture of yourself. If your hair is white, your eyes are black and you are wearing glasses, I'll consider it. If not, bug off!"

A roar of laughter assailed her ear, and then a cheery voice said. "You must be psychic. You describe me to a T."

"Really?" she muttered.

A chuckle rolled over the phone wires. "How about we grab something to eat tonight, say at 8:00 at Akabeko."

"I said stop pestering me!" Misao bounced off her chair, sending papers scattering onto the floor.

He laughed. "You must be a red-head with that kind of temper. I'll wait for you. Please. Okay?"

The line clicked, ending further discussion. For a long moment Misao waited for her breathing to even. What the hell was going on? She wondered. The sicko didn't even wait for her reply and hang up on her. Of all the nerve!

Her fury skidded to a halt. Her hand froze in midair. Her pulse quickened. Her curiosity peaked. A wide grin split her full lips.

'_Come to think of it. It's not such a bad idea. Meet the guy, then ditched him.' _

&&&&&&

"Bad day?"

"The pits."

Misao regarded her best-friend seriously. "Was he that bad?"

Kaoru looked at Misao gloomily. "The worst. He is such a cheapskate. He's so tight, when he winks his knee caps move."

Misao's lips quirked in a ready laugh. "Now, Kaoru, don't get you panties in a bunch."

The blue-eyed girl frowned. "My panties are just fine. It's Sano I've got a problem with." She clenched her small hands into fists. "Here's life's little lesson. A guy who never picks up the tab in restaurants is not going to make a commitment. Constipated wallet, constipated emotions. A word of advice, Misao. Order a meal you can afford, if you're going to end up paying for it. Just like I did."

Misao patted her best friend on the back and muttered that all men were basically slime.

"I've gotten to the point where I'm comfortable with just me," Kaoru said. "It's finally OK that I'm not part of a matched set."

"Honey, this is the perfect time to plunge in again. Don't let one lousy date get you down." Misao was an incurable optimist, despite her disastrous history with Aoshi.

"No, I have to be careful. Men are like amoebas. They swallow you up. You're nothing but a big bulge in their belly, if you aren't careful."

"There's a colorful metaphor."

"When Kenshin left me, I felt like nothing. Worthless. I just felt so obliterated. Alone, I was nobody. And I thought I was liberated."

"We all bought it, kiddo." Misao laughed. "You had to remake yourself, totally, to get a man. Don't let it get you down," she advised.

"I won't," Kaoru said and managed a weak smile. "It'd take more than a rooster-head freeloader to do that."

"Good girl. Look at me, I'm not going to just sit here and let Aoshi have all the fun. No way."

Despite her bravado, in the pit of her stomach the conviction lay, like an undigested meatball, that the breakup had been her fault. She was a woman who couldn't hold her man. If she'd had big tits, if she'd been wittier and dressed provocatively, Aoshi wouldn't have run to Megumi.

She knew that wasn't true, of course. She could have had the face of Brooke Shields, the body of Pamela Anderson, and the sexual skills of an entire Hong Kong bordello, and that wouldn't have stopped Aoshi.

&&&&&&

Misao meet "Enishi Yukishiro" the date, at exactly 8:00. He was attractive and seemed to dig her—Miracle of Miracles!

The conversation flowed freely, and they were having a great time. He mentioned that a friend of his was in a band and that the band was playing at a club about a half an hour's drive away. Misao immediately and enthusiastically suggested that they go catch the band in action. She would forever regret her words.

They get to the club and meet up with about five of his friends. The band is tuning up, and he introduced her all around. He chatted amiably with the band, complimented her, and asked her if she needs anything. A perfect gentleman. Damn! The guy is perfect.

Misao was completely convinced that it is going to be a great night.

Then, the band starts to play, and it all goes to HELL…………

Three seconds into the first song, Enishi becomes John Travolta. He grabs her hand and jerks her up from the table where she is sitting. Unfortunately, she has a full drink in her hand and Bloody Mary goes all over her and all over the table. She lets out a shriek that would wake the dead. She screams so loud, in fact, that the band stops in mid-note. Enishi was incredibly apologetic and lead her to the ladies' room so she can clean up.

Misao was telling herself it was an honest mistake, it was just exuberance. She'll just move and managed to laugh about it a little bit.

The band is really cooking when she get back to the table. Again, Enishi takes her hand and leads her out onto the dance floor. The music is pounding around them, and he begins to………Misao was pretty sure he'd call it 'dance,' but truly, it was more like a full blown gran mal seizure. He was throwing his arms around like he was trying to flag down a fire truck, and he was pumping his hips (which were really nice hips, too).

His head is thrown back and his eyes are close. Misao seriously thinking that maybe he is having some sort of attack……….he snapped his head up, looked her in the eye and flashed her this wicked grin. Now what?!

He begins to untuck his shirt. In the meantime, all the people have spilled onto the dance floor, watching this spectacle. Misao fake a twisted ankle out of desperation and it WORKS!! They go back to their seats, with her shouting that she'll be fine in a little while. She just need to rest.

Back at the table, he picked up the sugar-packet container and proceeded to steal all of the sugar and artificial sweetener packets out of it. He's jamming the little paper envelopes into his pocket and she was not sure what to say. He looked at her, smiles again, and yelled, over the music, "I do this all the time! I save a lot of money this way!"

Misao slowly shook her head. He seemed nice enough, but a little on the weird side.

The rest of the evening is a blur of him getting up to "dance" and a sad, slow procession of the people coming back to the table with assorted looks of discomfort on their faces. His own friends sort of disappeared at some point, but the Party Man doesn't seem to care; he was busily trying to start a conga line on the dance floor. Yep, Enishi was the life of the party, all right. At one point, the waitress looked at Misao sympathetically and said, "Well, Miss, maybe he's just had too much to drink."

He'd been drinking straight orange juice all night.

The band wraps up the final set and she really want to go home. Misao waited for him at the table and he showed up there, sweaty and reeking. She must have wrinkled her nose or something because he says, "Oh, sorry! I usually don't have to mention it this early in the relationship, but I don't like deodorant or antiperspirants. I prefer the smell of myself."

Misao just sort of nodded and mumbled, "No problem."

They walked out into the parking lot and Misao was thinking that she needed to take a couple of days to process all of this: maybe it's not as bad as she was thinking.

Uh-oh! She looked up and he was standing by her car, looking at her expectantly. She walked over and unlocked her own door, looking at him over the roof.

"I'm really tired," she started to say, and he sort of waves her off. "I just want to talk," he said.

Great. Now she has to let this dripping wet person into her car. Misao sigh and try to think of ways to make a quickie escape. She also said a prayer that he was not thinking about kissing her or anything else……….the smell of him is literally making her eyes water. Against her better judgment, she unlocks his door and he scoots in.

Once they were in the car, he lighted a cigarette, thinking that she can open the window and, plus, the smoke smell will cut through the body odor. He turns to face her in his seat and the first thing out of his mouth is, "I always promised myself that the woman I married would be a dancer, so if you wanna keep the Enishi-magic going, baby—you gotta loosen up."

The green-eyed girl just looked at him and nodded. What was there to say?

He reviewed the evening for her, in painstaking detail, as though she hadn't lived through it herself. Funny thing is, his version was radically different from what she remembered living. Somehow, it was her fault that she ended up with a Bloody Mary bath. He was the smoothest man on the dance floor.

Enishi realized how tired she must be, so he wanted to give her a quick kiss goodnight and call her in the morning.

Misao was backing away from him, practically pushing herself through the open window to get away. As he leans forward, he lets out one of the longest farts she had ever heard and suddenly, his body odor is a fond, forgotten and longed-for assault upon her senses. Her car smells—BAD!

He giggles like a fourth grader and says, "Gods! I wanna kiss you so bad I just farted!"

The poor girl was completely shell-shocked at that point. She was sitting in her now-even-smellier car, trying to figure out where the great guy went to. She's staring at him and he's coming in for the kiss and she just bolted out the driver's side door.

"Hey! Are you okay?" Enishi asked her, getting out of the car.

"I'm fine." Misao lied through clenched teeth.

"Well, how 'bout that kiss, then?"

"I don't think so," she said, still thinking that if she ever let him kiss her, all hell would break loose.

He just sort of looked at her and said, "Okay, it's been a long night, right? I'll call you in the morning."

Misao actually start to sigh with relief when he grabs her up into this pseudo-clinch of passion. His tongue actually goes up her nose and again.

"How was that, Baby?" He asked and he sounded like a bad Romeo impression.

"Get the fuck out of here," Misao spit, having reached her breaking point. He asked her to repeat herself, as though she have not been clear enough about her intentions. Misao repeated herself—FIVE times. It's becoming a chant, a mantra.

Finally, the white-haired guy gets a clue. "I'll call you in the morning okay?" He said, one last time as she spews gravel trying to get out of there as fast as possible.

When she got home, she saw two things that make the night complete: the perfect outline of his body via sweat-stain on the fabric of her car seat; and a brown stain, about the size of a coin seeped into the fabric where his ass was.

Boy, when she screwed up, she always managed to do it in a big way.

"Why is it always my story of woe?" Misao wailed.

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

Sorry, for the long hiatus. Hope you enjoy this chapter. THANKS TO ALL MY REVIEWERS Hugs & Kisses

Why Enishi & Misao? Why not, everybody's been doing it. So, I thought, WHY THE HELL NOT?!


	4. Revenge of a Woman Scorned

LOOKING FOR MR. RIGHT

STANDARD DISCLAIMERS APPLY

(Un-edited version)

WARNING: Major OOCness

CHAPTER 4

The moment had come. The diamond ring burned a blistering hole in Kenshin's pocket. He'd outdone himself to make the occasion special. Fragrant flowers spilled out of a sterling bowl. Tall red candles flickered on the spotless white linen tablecloth. He had asked the restaurant's chef to prepare all Tomoe's favorites. Her dark eyes sparkled at him, reflecting the candle flames over the red roses. Perfect. So why did he have a sudden irrational craving to be somewhere else?

"Tomoe," Kenshin took her hand across the table. Her smile gleamed, wide, expectant. She knew what was coming. A light sweat broke out on Kenshin's forehead. He took a sip of wine.

"You wanted to ask me something, Kenshin?" Tomoe leaned forward encouragingly.

"Yes, I…..yes, I did." He shifted in his chair. _Come on, Kenshin. How hard could it be? _Will. You. Marry. Me. Four little words that would seal his fate forever.

Kenshin ran his fingers under his collar. It felt unusually tight. He unbuttoned the collar and loosened his tie.

Tomoe's expectant smile dimmed. "Are you okay, sweetie?" Her voice dripped pure gold honey, a sure sign she was upset. The madder she got, the less people could tell, unless they knew her. Kenshin knew her.

"Sure, of course. Maybe a little too much wine." He gulped a little more and tried to take a deep breath. The air must be leaving the room somehow. He glanced around, half-expecting to see some air monsters crouched outside the window, sucking out their precious oxygen with a giant vacuum.

He forced his attention back to Tomoe. What the hell was the matter with him? He'd already agreed she could move in next month; it was only right to ask her now. "Is it warm in here or is it me?"

Her smile remained fixed in place. Was the light playing tricks or had her teeth suddenly sharpened into pearly points? "I'm perfectly cool."

He nodded weakly. No surprise there. The Sahara sun couldn't unfreeze her. She made cucumbers seem like hot coals. He glanced at her through his wine glass. She still stared, eyes calm, wide, unblinking, waiting, waiting. "Is that all you wanted to ask me, Darling?"

"No, of course not." He chuckled involuntarily and cleared his throat. "Tomoe, will you…..will you m—m—m--?" His throat clenched convulsively on the word. Married. To Tomoe. Locked in an eternal gavotte of comfortable, predictable sameness. Finally having to give up his dreams of blind love and all-consuming passion.

Kaoru.

He exhaled breath he didn't know he'd been holding and pointed to his coffee. "Will you pass me the sugar?"

---------- ------------

It was déjà vu all over again.

Kaoru sat across the linen-covered table from a man she normally would've crossed the street to avoid.

"Serious" was the word that came to mind. Everything about Saitou Hajime was too serious. He even had serious hair. It contained enough grease to avert an oil shortage that winter. He also smokes like a malfunctioning motorcycle.

Right now, he's wearing a suit that made him looked like a mortician. 'Hey, Saitou, any dead bodies, lately?'

She and Saitou have been seeing each other steadily for a month now. Steadily, but not often. Once a week at the most, which, to be honest, is fine with her.

Saitou's a police officer with the Tokyo Police force. She met him on an Internet matchmaking service, no thanks to her meddling best friend, Misao.

--------------FLASHBACK--------------

"Misao, what happened to your date?"

"It's a long brutal story." Misao said bitterly. "I was hoping for an Anthony Perkins-look-alike, but instead I got Norman Bates from "Psycho." I should have known. Anyone who dances like that isn't mentally stable."

Her anger had carried over to the following day, and it seemed as if she couldn't do anything wrong on the bowling alley. She was much more focused than she'd been in her few previous attempts at sports. Maybe it came from imagining Enishi's face on every one of those pins.

"Kaoru I think we should sign up for an Internet matchmaking service. A lot of girls I know have signed up with a matchmaking web site, and they're meeting some great guys," Misao said suddenly perking up. "The web site is called and I really do think you and I should join."

Kaoru didn't even want to think about what the _org_ stood for.

At the time, Kaoru knew that she should've been feeling happy that Misao was finally cheering up after her disastrous date with a weirdo, but to tell the truth, it was pretty annoying. When you're feeling kind of down yourself, the last thing you want to hear is just how great somebody else is feeling.

Up to that particular evening, she and Misao had a lot in common.

Both of them currently had no man in their life.

Both of them were pretty angry at the last guy they'd dated.

And both of them felt like crap.

"Matchmaking service?" Kaoru tried to keep her voice calm. "Have you gone completely insane?" OK, so maybe her voice wasn't all that calm. She was not yelling her head off. Kaoru had merely increased her volume just a bit in order to emphasize the point.

Misao had the unbelievable gall to smile at her. It was quick, tight-lipped smile, but it was most definitely a smile. "Well, Kaoru," she said, "I guess it won't be exactly a shock to hear that I'm getting very tired of sitting home, feeling depressed, every single Saturday night. So I thought, why not?"

Dating isn't exactly a new experience. But now, Misao's looking at each man as a potential husband and father. Not that she's going to ask for a sperm count or character references, but there are certain traits she wants in a man. Commitment is a biggie to her.

"You know, I'm starting to think about babies. I really think I want some."

"Some? How many did you have in mind, Misao?"

"Oh, I don't know. A couple. I've been looking at men lately, trying to picture them changing diapers. I used to just picture them without any clothes on."

"A naked man changing diapers? That's kinky, Misao, even for you."

"Don't you even think about it, Kaoru? Kids, I mean not naked men."

"Oh, sure, who doesn't? But I'm not going to go out and get in a lousy relationship so I can have kids who will be miserable." She decided living by herself wasn't so terribly awful. At least she had plenty of time to devote to her hobbies. Or to develop some hobbies. One day, she really was going to get herself a hobby.

Kaoru had been lonely since her breakup with Kenshin. Having a comrade in arms at her side helped a bit. The world always seemed a little brighter through Misao's rosy lenses.

To Kaoru, the emerald-eyed girl has been a comfort to her. Misao was Kaoru's childhood friend. Their friendship had grown closer as they grew older. Kaoru had much more in common with Misao than with her other friends. Their thoughts often followed the same paths. They read the same books, enjoyed the same movies, and had many of the same tastes.

As career women, Kaoru and Misao shared a great many similar experiences. Over the past couple of years they'd become a support system for each other. In fact, they both are planning on setting up their own fashion company since they're both successful in their own fields.

Kaoru had a lot of friends since childhood, but she laughed more with Misao than she ever had with anyone. Laughed and cried. Misao was that kind of soul friend. That kind of real friend.

"It's too bad virgin births went out of style. It would save a lot of trouble," the green-eyed girl sighed.

"Misao, the almighty has to get you pregnant for a virgin birth. It's not a do-it-yourself thing."

"I know, but seriously, Kaoru. I want it all. Husband, traditional family, the whole thing. Am I being selfish?"

"No," Kaoru said, her voice rising with the strength of her conviction. "But, aren't you afraid that you might be making a date with a serial killer? What if he's an ax murderer? Or the next Freddy Kruger?"

Misao gave her best friend what she hoped was a reassuring smile. "Kaoru, not everyone you meet online is a psycho. Come on," Misao insisted, "it's high time you and I stopped moping and started living again."

"I don't know, Misao. Internet dating? It sounds like a great way to meet weirdos."

Misao laughed. "Kaoru, a singles bar is a great place to meet weirdos. The mall is a great place to meet weirdos. The grocery, for goodness sake, is a great place to meet weirdos. So what's your point?"

Kaoru had to smile, in spite of herself.

"Besides," Misao hurried on. "you can find out more reading a guy's profile on the MyTrueLove Web site than you can in an entire evening talking to him in some smoke-filled singles bar."

Kaoru was still skeptical. "Like what, for instance? What could you possibly find out that you couldn't find out just talking to him?"

"You can get an idea how smart the guy is; you can tell if he can actually construct an entire sentence; you can see if he can spell—"

Kaoru shook her head. "I don't know, Misao. Whenever I've been thinking about what I wanted in a guy, the ability to spell just never seemed to come up."

Once again, Misao had laughed. "Come on, Kaoru. MyTrueLove is a really good deal. For just a few yen a month, the site acts as a go-between for single people. And part of that money goes to research into heart disease."

"Heart disease," Kaoru repeated. "That certainly sounds appropriate."

Misao ignored her. "MyTrueLove lets you send e-mails to whomever you want, and they can e-mail you back, but you never, ever see the other person's e-mail address. And they don't see yours. MyTrueLove gives you an anonymous e-mail address to communicate through. So it's really very safe. Nobody knows your real e-mail address or your real name or where you live, unless you tell them yourself."

Kaoru knew a diversionary tactic when she heard one. "Cut the commercial, Misao," she said. "Get online and show this thing to me."

"OK, I'll show you the Web site," Misao said, now sounding a little testy herself, "but, really, Kaoru, is it absolutely necessary? Can't you just take my word for it? I'm telling you there's nothing to worry about. Don't you trust me?"

Kaoru looked at her. "Yep, you're right," she told Misao. "I don't trust you."

Misao was quite indignant. "Humph! Some best-friend you are!"

When Kaoru persuaded Misao to buy a new computer, she never dreamed that she was creating a monster.

A cyber monster; to be sure, but a monster, nevertheless.

"Don't be too quick to judge the men on the Internet dating service. Who knows, one might turn out to be Mr. Wonderful."

"Why am I having trouble believing that?"

----------------- -----------------

_Why the hell am I doing this?_

The mind supplied answers, true or false, to fill the nothingness. To show Kenshin. She can't cower in her house every day in case she bumps into him again. She has to do something. Meeting other people made life easy to manage, but not exactly brimming with spontaneity. That was one thing she'd loved so much about Kenshin.

The moment Kaoru had met Kenshin, she'd known he was her soul mate. He was intelligent and ambitious, as orderly as she was, and just as dedicated to his career. They'd both been able to—

Kaoru gritted her teeth, resisting the urge to growl. Forget it. The whole relationship was a fake. Why couldn't she remember that?

What was even worse, it had been months and she still missed the guy. And his damn wow kisses. She still couldn't walk past her phone without wishing it would ring and it would be him. She'd actually found herself thinking one day: _OK, he's a cheat and an asshole, but what did I do wrong? Why doesn't he phone and try to make up?_

Dr. Laura would've slapped her. Hell, she wanted to slap herself.

That old saying is simply not so. Love is not blind. And it's certainly not deaf. It's just dumb. Really, really dumb.

The expression madly in love is apt, for it describes a form of temporary insanity.

As Kaoru studied Saitou, she sensed a neat freak like herself, except this one had fallen into a bad spell.

Having dated him for several centuries one month, she knew she had to end it now.

Every time she tried to hold his hand when they were in a darkened movie theater, he would always whispered "NPDA." The first time he'd whispered it to her, pulling his hand away as if her own hand were something unclean, she'd thought that the initials probably referred to some New Police Department Act—no doubt relating to the necessity of a cop keeping his hands free in case he might be called upon suddenly to fire his pistol. At least, she'd thought that until Saitou thoughtfully decoded the letters for her: No Public Displays of Affection. It was apparently a rule he lived by.

How cute.

Right now, their relationship is still a bit awkward. He kissed her for the first time last week—on their third date. It was all right. It's come as something of a shock to realize how wildly romantic she was. She wanted a man panting with desire for her, one who won't be able to remove that silk nightgown fast enough. The nightgown that's lying untouched in her bottom drawer. The one she'd been saving for Kenshin.

For reasons she has yet to understand, she can't imagine Saitou panting with desire for anything. Try as she might, it's difficult to think of Saitou getting excited about anything. Nor can she picture him nude.

Her father always said still waters run deep. If that's the case, Saitou's deep all right, so deep she wonder if it'll ever touch bottom.

So, after a few weeks of NPDA, she now came up with a few initials of her own: AA (Adios, Amigos); HTRJ (Hit The Road, Jack); and, her personal favorite, DLTDHYOTR (Don't Let The Door Hit You On The Rump).

"Saitou…..I think you're a wonderful person," she said, focusing her eyes on the ceiling, praying the gods would forgive her for this lie. "I think it would be best for us both to move on and date others." In case there was room for misunderstanding, she added, "Not each other."

Her announcement was followed by a stiff silence. "You mean to say you want to break up with me?" He sounded aghast. Shocked. She'd say one thing for Saitou, though. He had the most expressive eyebrows she'd ever seen. Right now, they rose all the way to his hairline.

"Yes," she replied meekly, then hurried to say, "I don't want to hurt your feelings. I'm sure there's someone perfectly wonderful waiting to meet you."

"That's what my ex-wife told me," he said gruffly.

"I'm sorry, but there just isn't any…..spark between us."

"If you're looking for sparks, I suggest you sleep with a high-voltage power line. Not only will you get sparks, but it will also be an electrifying experience."

"This is one cranky man," Kaoru muttered as she stood.

---------------- -----------------

As Kaoru exited the restaurant she saw a familiar car sitting smugly at the curb. It was Kenshin's car! Kaoru glared at it. She strode over and stood beside it, unable to control her fury and loathing. The red-hot anger turned white. Without even thinking what she could possibly accomplish, she slammed her foot against the fenders with all her weight behind it.

To her horror, the car moved. It moved forward and out from the curb, narrowly clearing the bumper in front of it. In a slow turn, it glanced gently off a car on the other side, straightened and began a sickening, accelerating, driveless descent down the hill toward the traffic on Chiba Street.

The car hit the concrete divider bisecting Chiba Street with a loud splinter of metal and glass. Half a second later another car, screeching to avoid the accident, smashed into the BMW, crumbling one side: crunch.

Silence.

The driver of the second car climbed out and started shouting obscenities at the totaled, empty BMW, searching the small crowd of pedestrians for someone to hold responsible. Kaoru swung around to see Kenshin and Tomoe frozen on the sidewalk, the red-head's mouth open in shock and disbelief.

And then, through her agony, her mortification, her horror, came joy. Joy so vicious, unbridled and intense in its purity, she could barely keep from shouting it out. Triumph. Victory. And justice for all.

She smiled secretly and hugged the delicious, unfamiliar feeling of empowerment tightly to herself. When his car crashed into that barrier, once she realized no one was hurt, she felt free and strong like she would not believe. Whoever said revenge wasn't sweet never had that awesome a sugar high.

All she could think of was his agony seeing his prized possession reduced to a ball of tin foil. It was exquisite. It was ecstatic. It was……TOTALLY AWESOME.

Hell had no fury like Kaoru scorned.

"Oh, Kenshin! Your car…..it's horrible!" Tomoe embraced the red-head, sympathy and regret etched into her features. "Oh, Darling, you must have really loved that car."

Kenshin smiled. "It's okay, Tomoe. To be honest. I hated the damn thing. I always wanted a nice unpretentious dark-colored Toyota."

Kaoru froze. _A Toyota._

She crumpled: Betrayed, humiliated, and deflated.

_Why, when my whole life should be coming together, it seemed to be falling apart!_

TBC

AUTHOR'S NOTES:

Hiya! Thanks to everyone for being so supportive. (HUGS & KISSES).

Sorry for the long hiatus. I don't have any Internet access. Hopefully, everything is okay now.

BTW, I need a beta-reader. Just check my grammar and spelling. I'm not that confident when it comes to my grammar, since English is not my first language. (my E-mail address-- next time!


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